Then There Were Two
by flagrantdelire
Summary: In progress....Sands, Charley, Oceane, Jack... when lives collide: things are going to get messy. adult content
1. Oh Charley !

Sands flicked open his phone and when questioned by his agency where he was, his answer was simple.

"Mexico- Mexico's my beat, and I'm walking it!" he said as he strutted down the uneven cement blocks en route to The Flying Cow.

"Should have guessed, what is it this time, margarita-ville, one toke over the line, or two many shots of Tequila."

Sands chuckled. "You best remember, not by the shot, that's not how I work… but by the kill- by the bottle... I mean," he added ambiguously.

"Well, let's just get down to business then my solemnly sober friend," Charley rolled his eyes. "The Agency is… how do I put it- pissed? …mmm yes, maybe that's the word- at being your little mailbox. You see, if you'd just give your address out to your own- people, clients? –whatever you call them these days, we wouldn't be in this little predicament… are you, getting the point I'm laying down?"

"You're lying down? Now- now I'll say you have my attention," Sands teased, and hushed his voice down to an orgasmic whisper. "What are you wearing?"

"Enough of the bullshit Sheldon! Come pick up your love letters, or we'll hire a radio to broadcast whatever secretive nothings we find …all hours of the day and night."

Sands suppressed his chuckle to a mere smirk. "Be sure to give me the station number, I'd love to listen to those little briefings…"

"Briefings?" Charley snapped at wits end with the matter.

"Sorry, I forgot, you're more of a thong man aren't you?" Sands quipped. "Personally I don't like all those strings-.. SO much hassle… too much."

Charley's face blushed a hue, verging between blazing red and purple.

"You never did answer me…" his soft seductive voice continued.

"Sheldon, stop! Meet me at the- …"

"The Flying Cow, how original," Sands sighed with irritation.

"No wonder you can't get a woman you jump to more damn conclusions than they can!"

"So many hints you're making my blush, sugar-butt," Sands sarcastically flung insult to injury at this homophobic man. "Would you like my birthday, sign, and phone number too? Oh- you already know those…"

"Come in to the fucking office!"

"Offices fuck now, do they? Technology has sure changed since my days in…"

"SHELDON!"

"Screaming for me already? I'm just on a roll," Sands smiled and motioned his hand for a taxi. "Don't worry about keeping your pants on… I like a man ready for me."

Charley wasn't even going to dignify that… he slammed his phone shut, barely getting it away from his ear in time.


	2. Ladies' Man

Agent Sands chuckled to himself, always finding his way to get in his own perverse kick and twist on everything. He slid his sunglasses down from his face and folded them up, resting them on his lap while he sat in the cab and mumbled where it should head off to. A good few blocks away from the Headquarters of the CIA he 'oh so subtly' hollered for the taxi to stop, slapped a couple of bills onto the man's shoulder and ditched out the door.

He walked aimlessly down one way and then the other, and when he was certain that no one was trailing him, he agitatedly tapped his index finger against his side and then strolled into the main offices… and walked ominously behind the swarms of people, until he saw a plaque on a door just ahead for Charley's cubicle…

A woman stealthy approached Agent Sands, and put her hand on his shoulder. Without thought- a swift reaction, he had his hand inside his trousers and whipped out a gun so fast it was to her temple before the rest of her fingers were on him.

"Sands…" they young lady gasped.

"Oceane?" he said with a trace of a smile and took the gun from her head, looking around suspiciously at the scene he'd created. "Your failure to appear at meetings at designated times resulted in forfeiture of protection..."

"Missed one did I?" her lips tauntingly glided over his ear. "Shame as it is- the only protection I need you can't give to me…" Oceane whispered seductively.

"I need to get in to see Charley, and you're- you're the woman that can do that?" Sands said.

"6 months away…" she paused and ran her hand slowly down his chest.

"Get me in…." Sands said and trailed his fingers expertly down her spine, knowing it's every curve and bone. "And I'll give you something that you want."

"You don't know what I want," she said and gasped as his other hand approached her inner thigh.

"No? I'm all for taking up new tastes, but … have all of yours changed?" Sands asked as his fingers slid into her skirt and felt the remnants of her body's reaction. "Perhaps I do know- after all… get me in, or I'll get in myself…" he opened up his trousers' zipper but instead of letting himself out, he slipped his gun back in.

"Never," Oceane groaned as his hand pushed away her under garments and his fingertips slowly played her.

"Give me the key… or plea for me," Sands said looking deep into her cat eyes.

Oceane undid a button of her blouse and pulled the key out from the center of her bosom and pulled his hand from out of her crotch and smashed the jagged edges of the key into his palm. "Never," she hissed and spun, golden ringlets of curls bouncing onto her neck as the emeralds of her eyes disappeared from his sight.

"Are you- trying to give me a boner?" he breathed in pain of how his cock was reacting to her. And he groaned under his breath as she turned on the heels of her stilettos and floated off into the crowd. Sands jabbed his key- much to his dismay, not metaphorically, into the door, and flung it open. He smirked, evil intent dripping from his lips. "The flower shoppe doesn't carry long stemmed red roses any more beautiful, I- I apologize." Sands said, and 'half-heartedly' might be accurate, though, what then of the notion that he had none?

Charley sighed, if the CIA didn't pay him an enormous cheque by the week he never would have stood this banter a moment… but killing your company's most valuable asset, well- let's just say that was frowned upon by those higher up the food chain. He watched his mind strangle Sands, until the very breath was choked out of him, and a grin of satisfaction wiped over Charley's face.

"My letters- ?" Sands said impatiently. "You know that withholding vital information from a federal officer is a crime…. especially when that officer would pay handsomely for it but would NOT think twice about ripping those pants off your hips and butt fucking you to death!" he said with a firm but quiet and menacing tone to his voice.


	3. Let the Games Begin

Charley submissively put his hands up over his head. "No need to get confrontational."

"You're so easy Char" Sands smiled and stroked his fingers, bent and back-sided along Charley's cheek. "Give me my letters sugar…" he whispered and kept his eyes glued upon Charley's.

Charley reached into his desk and pulled out some dozen letters addressed to Sands, a few of which the seal's had been broken.

"Well I suppose I should thank you for not shoving them up your ass…" Sands paused as if in thought… "However," he mumbled and grabbed Charley's waistband and yanked it so the prong came free and his trousers were loose to manipulation, and he probed and prodded his slender hands inside the man's pants. "Boxers…" he remarked upon feeling the man's underwear. "Interesting." Sands thrust his hand against Charley's skin and then left him to his faltering clothes as he strutted towards the exit of the office, with his letters in hand.

Sands hesitated, grabbed his own crotch and pulled out his gun, leaving his own brand of bullet square in Charley's groin… he wasn't into the games of others, only his own. He took the pleasure of watching the man fall, and pools of blood flow, trickle to an ooze and then the sparse drops on the floor... then split. Out in the hall he looked either way, and found a janitor. "A little help?" Sands muttered, and pointed him in the direction of Charley's room.


	4. Consciousness Is OverRated

The sun was starting to set and an emerald glow blanketed the sky. Sands left his dirty handicraft to the janitor's cleaning… the man got paid to clean rooms, right? What was a little blood and a bluing body? He drew in a deep breath of the humidified air and looked intently down both directions once out of the building, and shoved his envelopes inside his leather coat's pockets as he reached in for his unfiltered cigarettes. A few blocks down the road had his eyes' attention, quite a beauty. Sands strode off toward it and suspiciously looked over his shoulder before jacking open the door and hopping into the antique thunderbird. He pulled a few wires and made off into the breeze and down some abandoned streets and allies until he was long lost in the wilderness, nothing but the rolling plains, a smattering of cornfields and a sparse dotting of trees. 

Sands slipped his leather-gloved hand out the window, and the spoon dropped from the false arm, and clanked loudly onto the pavement, and the metal handle snagged and seared into the hind-wheel tire. WHOOSH- … the car spun out.

"Fuck!" Sands muttered before his mind sunk into a black… then blank oblivion.

Then flashes and flickers came… zig-zags of nothing etched through his mind. A light bolt of colour here… some red dots… how long had he been out? Had he come to?

"OH," he groaned and saw the most stunning figure appear before him. Surely he'd died and gone to Heaven, or else he'd made one hell of a deal with the Devil. "Are you- trying to give me a boner?" Sands muttered and grabbed for his cock.

A gun came barrel-ended at him. "Is it working?" Oceane teased and slowly stepped in closer to him until he could feel the silencer against the protrusion of his neck.

Fear could make you see anything when harnessed properly. Sands never saw the possibility of death, but the intoxicating danger… and his eyes looked lustfully to Oceane, as if seeing her for the first time, naked in all her glory before his feasting gaze. "You tell me sugar-butt." He smirked ever so slightly.

"Shut your eyes… shut your eyes and I'll tell you," her voice seductively lulled at his mind, and he closed his eyes, but as he opened them again… he did open them? Panic struck- he opened his eyes, surely he did, but no sight came. Nothing. Nothing came, except for a powerful blow, one after another… and not to the proper head… an intense throbbing to his skull.


	5. Questions

"So this is a skull fuck," he mumbled incoherently.

"Paid handsomely… paid handsomely and wouldn't think twice-twice about ripping that patch off your eye...eye, eye…eye…" his own voice was droning through his mind, and he felt his mind, or- something spewing out against the steering wheel. "And skull fucking you to death- to death… death…"

"Stop it! Get out, leave me alone!" Sands cried in a panic as his head lay motionless on the center dashboard; his legs had somehow made it out the window and glass seared into and sliced through his black leather pants.

The silence- silence that could literally pain the ears ringed, and he knew… without doubt he was alone. Sands sighed with despair as pain overtook his every sense and he tried to clamor and hang onto the feeling of something familiar… he had heard Oceane's voice, her sweet angelic voice, that became his truth as stars began to swirl overtop his head and soon nothing but darkness…languor… unconsciousness.

His hand clutched to his breast… feeling urgently for a pulse as he was locked in this disjointed state. Sands was vaguely with it, enough to know that the envelopes inside his jacket pocket were sending slivers through his skin, but he was too lethargic, too far in shock to react.

After time… days, weeks, months maybe, he didn't know… his eyes opened. Everything was stained red… the walls were red and he could see they were oozing, a blanket covered him... red… the floor tiles were red… 

He squirmed as a cloth came over his forehead and droplets ran down his face.

"I'm Agent Sheldon Jeffrey Sands… I work for the Central Intelligence-Central Intelligence Agency. I throw shapes… I set them up… I watch them fall. I'm living la Vida loca."

A nurse just barely suppressed a chuckle. How many times per day would she have to hear him go through this mantra? How often would she have to listen to him droll on and on through who he claimed to be and what he claimed to do. How often would she have to assure this man that he was safe and that the world possessed more colours than red?


	6. So We Meet Again

The woman conceded, she'd play into the games… feed him what he wanted to hear, and pray to God that it would end there, he'd snap out of this haze and find the other side of the storm, where it wasn't so murky or grey.

"You were holding onto these notes… Agent…" she paused trying not to smile at how absurd this was… "Sheldon Jeffrey Sands."

Sands' throat gurgled and he tried to swallow. "Notes you say? I was under the impression they were love letters… if they're not…" he stalled for effect. "I just… I just…" Sands stammered.

"Shh… shh. I haven't very well read them yet to know just what their contents contain," she said.

"Mm… patient/doctor relationship… I respect that you haven't broken that boundary… Allow me." Sands said and stroked his hand slowly along her upper leg. "What's your name?" his sensuous voice whispered out. "Tell me, I long to hear the beauty of your title that matches the beauty of your eyes…" 

"Sir, I'm not a doctor… I'm a nurse !" she retorted.

"Are you implying that I have further to go to break protocol then?" he smirked with enjoyment as he felt her inner most muscles twitching when his fingers slowed… and went with anticipation higher then followed her feminine curves and traced the contouring outlines of her legs. "Tell me… oh please…" he groaned a low orgasmic groan. "I burn to know… I ask only for your name"

"Sands! Fucking snap out of it, I know you're in there…" it was Oceane at his side.

"You were wet for me… tell me you still are, let me feel it," Sands said, his mind one-tracked, letting his hand slide until it could no further and then switched directions and caressed down feeling the parting of her buttocks beneath her womanly hood. "Trousers… no fair," he remarked.

"Touch me again and I swear I'll kill you!" she said grabbing the collar of his neck and slamming his head against the pillow.

"Are you… trying. to give me a boner?" Sands clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut as the erection rose visible into the hospital sheets.

Sands peered his eyes open to mere slits, and saw her nipples poking through her blouse, and my how her breasts had grown. "Oh my Christ…" he gasped. "I knew men could… grow… but… mmm" he struggled with such undeniable beauty before his eyes.

"My eyes are up here!" she said thrusting his chin upward and his gaze away from her bosom. 

"Another pair… has my attention… completely."

"Sheldon!" she hissed and let out a sigh. 

"You know, some women might take that as a compliment..." he pointed out.

"What that some drugged up horny man has the eyes for breasts? Sorry if I'm missing some blatant appeal."

"Well, sugar-butt… you could stare at my cock, that so strives for your attention…."

"You'd like that too much!" Oceane spat and grabbed his cock forcefully hard. "No, Sheldon… let's get one thing fucking clear as mud… I am not here to be your little exploiting-toy…"  
"Oh yes! Yes! A little higher… a little, just a smidgen" he gasped pleasure fully.

She tightened her grip deathly-so. "But you're no good to anyone dead! So…"

"Oh, is it deal-striking time?" he said. "Come around me… let me in, and I might agree to anything…" he said heavy with lust.

"You might… but you might just jump out the window and fuck and aardvark…" Oceane shrugged without a care. "I'm sure we can be… mutually beneficial to one another…"

"Fuck me…. I think so too." Sands said more urgently.

"There'll be no fucking!" Oceane said.

"You said you'd fucking kill me… would you kill me fucking?" he smiled slightly, and leaned up so his lips were just out of reach of her ear. "The skull fuck… was it real Baby?"

Oceane slapped him across the face, and clear into the next week.

"So we meet again." He murmured into darkness.


	7. Why Bother?

**Why Bother ?**

Sands mind was a swimming sea, what was fact and what was fiction? Why was he losing all reference points of where he was, and how close he was to reaching divine balance?

Oceane's remorse had brought her back. The fear. The fear that she may have just set him back, and this time beyond repair and the miracles of modern medicine.

"Wake up you sex thirsty cad," she said. Harsh words, but laced with some level of true caring. "Play the possum but don't think I don't know you're right beneath the surface! I'm not falling for this Sheldon…" Oceane said firmly, but her intentions were barely convincing herself.

"My letters," Sands mumbled reaching for his heart… they had been in the pocket against his chest- that's what started all of this, he'd never have been on the road had he not gone into the Agency those weeks ago… and panic grabbed him like a white smoke as he was in a hospital gown, this was sinking in for the first time. "My letters! My guns! My …trousers!"

"Trousers never were a priority of yours… were they?" Oceane said slowly.

"Give me what I want… what's going on. Get me out of here!" He forcefully snapped each word, more urgently than a caged tiger's growl. 

Oceane sighed and rolled her eyes, then slammed both of her hands against his chest so he stayed planted against the bed. "Shut up- someone will hear that, how do you very well plan to escape from that point, cowboy?" she pointed out in terms of black and white. "Now, I've only been here every goddamned day since you ran yourself into that goddamned tree…"

He smiled slightly… "Why's that sugar-butt… are all of the drug induced wild fantasies true then?" Sands said meeting her eyes.

"Don't push it!" Oceane said. "Look, can you tell me where you were headed when you crashed?"

"Oceane, I didn't crash…" he spat.

"Right, so the car wrapped around the tree… just a new decorative look?"

"The tire caught my fork… I don't know what happened after that…. Now if I have to stay in this fucking place two seconds longer, can we at least talk about something interesting? Guevera? Barillo?" he said.

"Your letters… the security here is too strong for anything else."

"Yes I asked for those 10 minutes ago," he hissed impatiently.

Oceane undid the buckle of her purse and pulled out the envelopes, still sealed, and slapped them onto his chest. "Your letters, your high-n-ass"

"Read them…" he said shutting his eyes as the blurring took hold and became everything.

"Can I hold your hand and wipe your ass too? Get you a cup of coffee with cream and sugar?"

"Coffee, no cream… and you, sugar." He smiled mischievously.

She shook her head in disgust and opened up the letter and read it through.

"To me, sweet Oceane, read it to me." Sands reached out and took her hand. "With the emotions in your voice… convince me you're the one who wrote it."

Oceane laughed. "I'm no man!"

Sands eyes peered open…. "Did you think I had doubts?" He twisted his head subtly to the side.

"No, last conversation we had you were talking of my breasts… unless man boobs are your thing?"

Sands chuckled. "You're onto me sugar… let me onto you."

"Can you turn every phrase into some sick sexual connotation?" Oceane said, this was hopeless.

"Perhaps…" he said thoughtfully. "Now read me my letters!"

"You sound like a four year old."

"I thought I was three last time I checked… did I miss a birthday… what were my presents?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Read to me!" He snapped back the battle of wits.

"Dear Sheldon… it has been far too long since our last trip together…"

"Sound the gong, someone in the world cares about me.." he said sarcastically.

"Why do I even bother with you?" Oceane said.


	8. Meanwhile

**Meanwhile**

Jack sat, leaned forward to quite an angle with his wrist cocked and his chin molded into it… Deep in thought… It had been nearly 2 years since he'd heard any word from Sands and yet he sent letter after letter in 2 month increments. Like clock work he'd lick the sweet backing glue of some decorative stamp and smear his thumb over the glossy finish until it stuck to a postcard of some travel destination. Locations that he had never been to. The words were never long. Brief. Always brief. iTijuana/i or… iGood finishing in July, see you there/i…. iBrokeback? Bring the rifle/i. It seemed lifetimes ago since they had laid eyes on one another. Millenniums since those ranching days in the summer up in the mountain. Countless, pointless days since the true meaning of life. Time had gotten lost. Minutes no longer held their value. Father Time himself had given up… and the ticking of a clock held no symbolism. It was simply an annoyance. Merely a nuisance. There was no point in counting to sixty. No bell would sound. There was nothing to look forward to. There had been nothing for two years. A century. A millennium. A lifetime. Nothing. No word from Sheldon.

'Life' had gone as 'normal'. What was life? What was normal? No word held its proper connotation. Sure the air went into his lungs and then flowed back out; an effortless, thoughtless function. Though, if it were under his control, maybe he'd have stopped it by now. Wasted breath…there was no point. And his heart. His heart no longer had a purpose… it beat only to carry blood… blood that was not used… exertion that was not meant to its potential. And no love… no love as the heart was meant to love. Granted, he had a wife… but he was not passionate for her. Maybe he said those three words… 'I love you'… but just as an orgasm, they could be faked with enough effort or preplanned thought. One night of booze induced pleasure gave women thoughts… he'd have been far out of that rodeo life had it not been for his son being born 9 months later. Now the years had past… wasted away. What were memories? Had it all just been a story… a legend?

"Dad… Dad?" Bobby hollered up the steps. "Dad, I'm home!" he called out.

"Mm?... Mm!" Jack shook his head, attempting to clear the fog from his mind. "Up in the study son. I'll be down in a minute," he called back, then slipped this month's postcard inside the stack of letters to go out to the mailbox, and trudged down the steps.

"Hey there dad. I stopped by mum's office, but they said she's out of town… on some work related-…out of town random job of some sort?"

"Hmm? How long did it take you to practice saying all those words in succession?" Jack said in disbelief that his wife was out of town, he'd seen her this morning and she'd said nothing of the sort. Was their marriage truly ithat/i bad? He picked up the phone dialing into the tractor company. He talked his way through the receptionist and asked for 'Mrs. Twist'… and got Hilary on the other line.

"Hi beautiful. Guess who is home from college?" Jack started. "I'll give you a hint- our son."

Bobby sighed and took the phone out of his father's hand. "Hi mum…" he answered briefly. "Dad's just playing jokes again." He quickly set the phone down on its cradle.

"Well… I guess I wasn't the second resort then? What's on your mind son, that grants fatherly over motherly advice? Haven't gotten some young lady pregnant have you…?" he said almost dreading the answer.

"No!" Bobby said swiftly defensive. "Look…. There's just something I need to ask you."


	9. Daddy

**Daddy ?**

"You knew at one time didn't you?" Sands drawled out the words from the side of his mouth.

"Maybe." Oceane said. She was fed up at giving him room to wiggle and infer as he pleased.

"Mm." Sands remarked uninterestedly.

His phone buzzed in his trousers on the floor. "Phone!" he snapped both his voice and his fingers simultaneously.

"Very good identification skills Sheldon- and what sound does a cow make?" Oceane rolled her eyes.

"Moo- pick it the fuck up!" he only held back from an all out scream.

Oceane knelt down to the floor and pulled his phone out of his leather pants.

Sands shut his eyes slowly and the ends of his lashes batted as if in the heat of an orgasm while he envisioned her hand slipping inside his pocket… with his trousers still fastened around his waist. The slow and disjointed slide of the leather grabbing her hand, as she grabbed something else.

"Who is it?" he said impatiently

"I thought you classified everyone by ring- you tell me!" Oceane hissed as she thrust it into the side of his face.

"Thanks sugar-butt." He smoothed down his hair along the sides of his cheek with his fingertips, his other hand making no waste of Oceane's hip in his vicinity.

"Agent Sands…" his voice seductively whispered out.

"Daddy?" his daughter said with a smile all too evident in her voice.

"Junior…" Sands' lips twitched off to the side, and his hand spanked at Oceane's rear, and his hand flicked, shoeing her off…. out of the room.

"Hey dad, where are you?" she said softly, her voice having long since acquired the same soothing tones of Sands'.

"Oh here and there… in and out-…" of consciousness- Sands purposely left ithat bit/i out of the equation.

"I'd really like to see you daddy… I'm in town. School's on winter break and I drove down here to Mexico…" she began to explain.

"Is that so…. Look I know I've not been a --…"

"A good father…" and thus proceeded, both word for word on the speech that Sands felt inclined to give year after year… every phonecalland Junior now had it down to an art of articulating and mimicking his every word.

"Getting a little too good at that aren't you Junior?" he said, then let out a sigh. "Look I'm… kind of stuck right now… in a hospital…. The best story you can dream up- that's what happened this time. Some good Tequila… some pretty women… some good sex…"

"Daddy!" she said appalled.

"I mean- …what was it you called about?" A man precise on every detail had already forgotten what she'd stated minutes ago. She had stated why she'd called, hadn't she? -Everyone did.

After minutes of snaking her way around his finger she squeezed the answer out of him. His whereabouts and what room number… and Junior hopped a cab over to see him.


	10. SO Funny

**So Funny**

Oceane reemerged from the waiting room with an all too suspicious grin about her face. "Junior?" she said interrogatively. "She is the Second to whom?"

"Drop it," Sands said, leaving the question where it lay.

"You never mentioned you had a kid-.."

"Thanks for pointing that out. You never mentioned if you like flavoured or scented condoms better." He picked blossoms from the air.

"Oh don't get playful Sheldon you know seashells from autumn leaves!"

"One's found in the ocean… and the only correlation drawn between the two is found in the- Oh wait! I've got it… just had it… OCEANE's head," he chuckled to himself.

"You're the only one who finds this funny," Oceane said and folded her arms and gripped her biceps.

"You're the only one who doesn't find this funny."

"Funny how that happens when there's only two of us in the room."

"Funny how we find it funny, and funnily enough no one's laughing."

"So you have a kid?" Oceane tried to get this man back on the mental train tracks of conversation.

"I thought we already established that. Look, I paid the convent enough not to speak of her… to raise her so I didn't have to. Do I have to pay you to?" Sands sighed wearily.

"Don't raise your blood temperature there cowboy." Oceane said. "Bastard…" the phrase found its way beneath her voice and an unforgiving shadow met her eye. How could a father be so heartless?

"Don't give me that look! Don't tell me you think I could have raised her… that I could be good for anything… anyone. Don't give me your goddamned pity now."

"This is not a pitied look!" Oceane hissed and chucked his letters all at once for his face and stormed out of the room.

"Misinterpretation… I plead guilty. Pray tell, what face was it?"

"Fuck off Sheldon!" she yelled from down the hall.


	11. All Apologies

**All Apologies**

Oceane clutched her purse under her arm, not taking the laboured extra moments to put the strap around her shoulder as her feet thundered over the linoleum and out to the main lobby.

"Security?" Ennis called as he set down his janitor's broom and poked his head into the video file room. "Security… would you please check in on Room 132?.. There seems to be a disturbance."

The man was far more interested in watching the tapes of Oceane's hindquarters as her heels carried her legs elegantly out of the hospital. Her shoulder grazed with that of a young woman, roughly her same age and she jerked violently back. "Oh… miss I'm .. I'm so sorry." She murmured and knelt down picking up the bag that the girl had dropped. "Please forgive me… I'm in such a rush--…" Oceane blushed like mad at her clumsy behavior.

"It's okay… really," Junior said politely. "Thank you." She added as Oceane handed her the handles of her bag and she slung it again over her back.

"Seriously!" Ennis said and turned the monitor screen off. "Get out there… do your job!"

"Today's your lucky day…" the man said and handed him his badge. "Take it into your own hands." His voice menaced and he flicked the television back on to catch the last few glimpses of Oceane's rear before she stood and there he caught a lovely side profile of her bust.

"I'm looking for my …my father. You wouldn't happen to know a room number---.." Junior began up.

"I'm terribly sorry, I'm going to miss my taxi- but the receptionist counter is just down the hall and to the left." Oceane said hurriedly and then got the hell out of the hospital.

Junior sighed. "Thanks… miss."

Ennis took the man's badge and sulked in through to Sands' room.. He knocked his knuckles against the wood and tentatively pushed the door open. There sat Sands… a few edged envelopes stuck out of his skin as they'd sheared in like knives… others had just left the battle wounds and paper cuts.

He gasped. "Oh my ..God. I'm so sorry to intrude but I heard a—I'm just wondering—Is everything all right?" Ennis said.

"Are you sorry?" Sands asked. "Words are useless…. I mean, why would you enter in and say you were sorry? You don't know a goddamned thing about me… why be sorry?" he cynically thought outloud then brushed away the notes from his complexion.

Ennis shrugged. "Can I be of any help?" he said slowly.

"Perhaps… can you?" Sands said and put his postcards on his bedside table. "Handing me my coat on the floor… that might be a start… and putting these in it. Then getting the hell out.. how does that sound for a game plan?" he 'asked' rhetorically more than awaiting a response.

Ennis nodded and stumbled his cowboy feet to do as he had been told. As he slipped the postcards into Sands' jacket flickers from the past couldn't help but push their way to the forefront of his mind…

"Where were you just there?" Sands said.

Ennis looked questioningly at him for a brief set of time and then the confusion washed out of his face. "I'm sorry…" he mumbled.


End file.
